


upcoming deadline

by boysbackintown



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Analysis, Confessions, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Season 8, Past Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Team Dynamics, introspective, shiro's pov, written for a friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 11:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17724716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boysbackintown/pseuds/boysbackintown
Summary: Voltron was going to leave Earth for a six-month mission without Atlas and Shiro forgot to tell Keith he loved him. Fuck.(Shiro did not fall in love. It rose in him like a tide. Past his organs, over his heart, and flooding his throat. If asked when the exact moment he realized he was in love, he wouldn’t be able to recall it. He also would have said that this was an extremely personal question.)





	upcoming deadline

**Author's Note:**

> Also ignoring a lot. Assume s7 was your end, without the cliff hanger. Written for a friend's birthday.

“And that’s it,” Commander Holt said, smiling wide as he spread his arms to his audience. “The mission is go.”

There was a burst of relieved laughter and applause across the board room. Shiro felt lighter than he has in years, the anticipation of _doing good_ settling into his bones and giving him direction _._ Someone thumped him on the back.

He reached out to softly smiling Keith — an instinct he doesn’t remember developing but now felt as natural as shifting gears for landing — when his breath cut short. Shiro felt like he had a hovercraft crash into him.

No, take that back— Shiro felt like a hovercraft grew legs, invited his fellow humanoid-automobile abominations over, and they all took turns kicking the shit out of him.

“You okay, man?” Keith said with a short and breathy laugh. Shiro felt a thrill up his spine at that and also at the way Keith stepped a little closer, nudging his face front and center in Shiro’s vision. Keith was not as small as he used to be, but the top of his head still was just under his chin. The perfect size to gather in his arms and Shiro desperately wanted to do that right _now_.

Instead, he let out a sharp and awkward bark of a laugh. “Just fine.”

Voltron was leaving Earth in three days. Atlas isn't going. Voltron will be gone for six months and Shiro forgot to tell Keith he loved him. Fuck.

 

***

 

Shiro did not fall in love. It rose in him like a tide. Past his organs, over his heart, and flooding his throat. If asked when the exact moment he realized he was in love, he wouldn’t be able to recall it. He also would have said that this was an extremely personal question and he had never been a fan of those.

 

 

 

 

 

But maybe it was this:

 

 

 

 

  

Shiro was a little ashamed of how the clone reacted when he saw Keith climb out of the old Altean ship. If _he_ was in control of his body, he definitely would have been thinking about Allura and her safety and how the alien prince they were aligning themselves with was a traitor.

But Shiro knew that he was the clone and the clone was him and even when digging through his memories, he again focused on the curls of Keith’s hair that framed his face instead of acknowledging the existence of a 1.) a member of an almost-extinct species and 2.) a member of an almost-extinct family.

He spluttered and went, “Keith, it’s so good to _see you._ ”

Christ almighty, Takashi.

And, in the middle of Extremely Important Discussion, Shiro was smiling like an absolute goof at him. He snapped out of it mid-sentence but not without Coran raising an eyebrow at him. Shiro wanted to scowl at him— the man once got hopped on some kind of space leeches for an intergalactic stage show. Shiro was allowed to lose focus and admire a pretty, pretty face every now and then.

 

 

 

 

 

Maybe it was this:

 

 

 

 

 

Shiro rolled around on the ground for a good few minutes before shooting up in panic. He then immediately collapsed in Keith’s arm. It was humbling, if a little embarrassing, with a smidgen of mortifying.

But, Shiro thought as he began to fade out, he was coming to terms with the fact that he no longer needed to be the perfect role model for his spitfire pilot. He recalled the set of calm in Keith’s shoulders, the easy way he gave his precious smiles to the Paladins, the gentle way he approached the new Altean girl.

Keith’s changed. And so has Shiro.

Shiro remembered one of the times he and Keith snuck out with some old cargo ships. He watched Keith yell and scream, gliding through the Texas desert as a trail of sand and dirt followed his trail religiously. _What a pro_ , Shiro thought. He couldn’t have imagined that this person— a amazing spirit wrapped up in a surly attitude — would save the planet. Save the galaxy. Save him.

Shiro wanted to smile at Keith and tell him what he is thinking about but it will probably be incoherent and sloppy. Keith’s eyebrows would furrow in that way they do when he is confused.

And Shiro _hurt_ , the air crisp and the stone underneath him hard and solid. He was _alive_ in a way he hasn’t been for a very long time (even before the actual, uh, dying part). So instead, he pressed his head against Keith’s shoulder and sighed.

He was safe. He was _safe._

 

 

 

Ah, no.

 

 

 

 

It was _this_ :

 

 

 

 

The Black Lion roared, air rushing over Shiro in a ferocious wave. The beasts whined, scampering away in fear as the mecha dug its nails in the thick foundation of the planet’s earth. Keith leapt from the cockpit, falling to his knees in a graceful crouch before running towards Shiro.

And Shiro is just— shocked. Keith piloted the Black Lion. The one thing that was meant to be _spiritually_ bounded to him or whatever.

As Keith ran over, his hands splayed out and frantic, pain took Shiro away from the moment. He looked inside himself for a quick moment, trying to find a curdling, ugly jealously lurking within a dark corner of his mind.

At the Garrison, Keith strolled in and took his fastest simulation scores, his highest records behind a starter ship, and now his Lion. Keith was nineteen with a future ahead of him. He was shining. He walked and approached life with a healthy, if not happy, glow— his body, muscles, and DNA did not give any sign of failure. With a little hand-holding from the right mentor and a better head on his shoulders, Keith could easily wipe Takashi Shirogane and his notable achievements clean from the well-kept records of the Garrison archives. He was just a few years younger. Shirogane’s reign over the top marks wouldn’t have lasted that long with Keith around.

But Shiro did not find anything. Even when he realized that Keith was much sharper than your regular talented flyboy, Shiro could not approach Keith as a rival. He wanted to press his hands to his back and _push_ him forward. He wanted to combat every negative, despairing, lonely thought in Keith’s mind. He wanted to tell him that growing up in foster homes and being an orphan did not make him broken. That he was whole and worthy. That he deserved patience and kind words.

Back at the Garrison, Shiro wanted to be an example for him, even if he felt fundamentally cracked in ways that Commander Holt’s guidance or Adam’s love could never quite smooth over. Now, with the roars of the gladiator pits in his ears, he did not think he can be anything for him anymore.

Keith started a small fire, purple eyes shining in worry. Shiro always wondered why they were that color— Keith’s perchance for cheesy fingerless gloves was as far as his interest in accessories go, ruling out contacts. Instead, Shiro made a crack at his demise, causing the Red Paladin to huff indignantly.

“I want you to lead Voltron.”

It was Keith— always was going to be him. To take over and maybe the world could remember Takashi Shirogane through this remarkable, remarkable man.

“Stop talking like that. You’re going to be fine.”

Shiro’s eyelids fell, surveying Keith’s face.

His thick eyebrows were doing that thing were they knit up and it contorted his whole face into a vague puppyish worry. Keith made this face at him several times— when the cadet got himself a demerit, when Shiro told him to fix his uniform, when he found about the disease eating at his only friend’s muscles.

Shiro decided that he shouldn’t make another joke— something like “well, that’s the first time anyone has ever said that to _me_ ” — because Keith might punch him.

 

***

 

Shiro had secured the top slot in almost every subject, field, and category throughout the Garrison.

He started off as a spindly fifteen year old in his freshman year. He was so polished and polite that he got dubbed as _Your Highness_ by the others _—_ like royalty, even though he really, really was not.

But his childhood raised in his grandfather’s community dojo gave him a good work ethic as well as good endurance. The surprise Jared Cooper had on his douchey face when Shiro jabbed his staff at the back of his knee and flipped him over with it was enough win respect from his classmates. This, paired with a natural good attitude, a need to give advice, and a confidence in his gait, made Shiro popular.

Growing nearly half a foot taller and getting broader in every way helped. Shiro was _cool_. He was a _legend._

He loved it.

When asked why he wanted to become an astronaut, Shiro’s eyes would light up. He would talk about Calypso, naturally. It was an amazing mission and it inspired almost every kid across the globe.

What Shiro didn't talk about was how he watched the flight from his family’s small kitchen, his grandfather running his fingers through his shaggy hair and murmuring, “Amazing. How amazing.”

What Shiro also avoided talking about was that if he got closer to the stars, he would get closer to his beloved grandfather and the parents he never met. If he reached the stars, he could tell them that no one will forget Takashi Shirogane. That their family was not wiped out from disease or in a blink of an eye from the mistake of a drunk driver.

Shiro wanted the stars. So he had to be good at everything.

 

***

 

He was not good at dating, however.

Matt was two years younger than him, but was brilliant enough to be on the same missions as Shiro. As his designated technician, Matt had clearance on all computers in their lab— somehow he also saw Shiro’s merged calendar from his personal halotop.

“Hey,” Shiro said, protesting weakly but it was too late. Matt saw the absolute insanity in how Shiro— the coolest guy in the Garrison— intensely scheduled his life.

“I always thought you just were good at balancing,” Matt said, his face a little pale. He closed the calendar.

They did not say anything for a short while.

“Um, sir?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said, wary.

“Nobody really schedules blowjobs for their boyfriend.”

Shiro was not an idiot. He just got _…lost_ in his head sometimes.

Work, TAing, exercising, doctor appointments. It can overwhelm anyone and Shiro also had the thousands of smaller obligations he signed up for out of duty for his fellow soldiers. This eventually led to a deeply neglected Adam. A deeply neglected Adam, who Shiro had to reject in the _shower_ so he can make it to Admiral Sanda’s executive meeting. A deeply needy and ridiculously horny sixteen-year-old Shiro was banging his head against a wall right now.

So he needed a prompt, a little reminder. Nice small things like grabbing the groceries, making a favorite dinner, dropping to his knees— _of course I remembered, love._

Shiro’s face was redder than it had ever been and quietly added a triple factor authorization on his calendar.

A little later, the next time Matt spoke, he asked— “Hey, sir, do you have any—“

“You don’t need to call me sir anymore. We’re past that. We’re beyond that, now.”

Interestingly enough, it was this moment that broke down the barrier and made Matt one of Shiro’s closest friends. Shiro still would really appreciate it if Pidge never found out about this though.

  

***

 

Shiro paced back and forth in his room, feeling like the grade A idiot that he was. Jesus Christ, they should stamp it on his forehead and march him down the halls. _You thought_ ** _this_** _guy was your best?_

Atlas was going to be in charge making the Earth a refugee center for other Coalition planets while Voltron was heading to Daibazaal. In a few days, Shiro won’t even be in the same galaxy as Keith.

Shiro wondered if a part of him just forgot that he wasn’t a part of Voltron anymore. It was a laughable thought, since Atlas was created from the very _fiber of his soul._ He birthed the goddamn robot.

How did this happened? Keith was by his side almost every moment during the pre-planning. From the moment he woke up, Shiro collapsed at the side of his bed and held his small hand in his, bombarding Keith with a barrage of incoherent words and worry. Keith looked up at him, blinking his purple eyes— it was alien after all — and passed out.

Krolia snorted behind him.

But from there, it was Shiro standing protectively as he watched Keith went through his physical therapy to Keith helping him with hours and hours of mission paper work. They were together. But they were always working.

“I’ve been going over this for hours— do you see something strange about these signal patterns.”

“They look alright to me.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked the one who has not completed their physics courses,” Shiro was teasing but Keith scowled anyways. Shiro gave a fake gasp. “Cadet Kogane, do you even have a legal license for your giant cat robot?”

“God, can you imagine Iverson making the rest of us finish our core requirements before heading out to Voltron.”

“The degree is admirable, Keith. It’s very pretty and makes a wonderful paperweight. Sometimes, it’s a plate for takeout.”

“I’ll let you know, _Captain_ , I am a perfectly capable pilot and astronaut. Perhaps the best one on this damn planet,” Keith smirked, so confident and sure. Shiro’s heart leapt.

“I don’t doubt it.”

God, Shiro should have kissed him right there and then. Keith’s lips were so pouty.

Shiro’s bed was right _there_ too. He could have laid Keith on it, could watched his long black hair stark against the sheets, and the way his face gets so open and welcoming for him. Keith was so broad and strong and it was all compact into his lithe frame and tiny waist and darling, delicate face. He wanted to press against the bed and make him shake.

Fuck.

He left his room and went on an anxiety walk around the base.

Shiro found himself in the commanding officers' personal kitchen, where somehow Hunk and Lance got clearance. They probably tailed after Lance’s sister, who is typing away at her halotop. Hunk is flipping green circular spheres that look like 3-D pancakes over the stove and it was incredibly disorientating to look at. Lance was playing bubble-gum pop, singing in a loud and off tune that scraped at the insides of Shiro’s skull. Helpless affection for his Paladins overwhelmed him anyways.

“Captain Shirogane? You don’t look so hot,” Veronica said.

“A little tired, that’s all,” He said, pleasantly. He gave Hunk a gentle fist bump on his shoulder, who gave a warm smile in return.

“Guess who came to visit this big guy again,” Lance said, turning down his god awful music.

“Zarkon?” Shiro tried. “I’m jealous. I thought I was his favorite.”

The three were silent, watching him warily.

“Jeez, man.” Hunk said. “You’d think the whole being kidnapped and kept prisoner thing would keep you from going there.”

Shiro frowned. “It was funny. Fine, who?”

“Shay!” Lance said, shedding the previous discomfort. “Man, Shay and Romelle are all over this guy. My lessons finally are paying off.”

“Oh please,” Hunk said, quiet. Shiro saw him fighting off a smile, which makes him smile. Shiro went to get coffee, giving Hunk another bump on the shoulder as he does so.

“Shay is a wonderful person. Romelle is too. But don’t be inappropriate about it, cadet. It’s cruel to lead two people on,” Shiro said, forced stoicism.

“Urg! Shiro!”

“Unless it’s a consensual pol—“

“ _Shiro_.”

“Are we talking cuffing up?” Veronica said, joining in. “Because I _keep_ asking Lance to hook me up with the 'flippity hair boy', as Axca refers to him.”

Shiro nearly spit out his coffee. Oh wait, he does.

“Gross, man.” Hunk said.

“K-Keith?” Shiro instead replied to Veronica, who blinked.

“Why does saying that always warrant this reaction? I got a face full of Lance’s morning herbal tea on me yesterday for the same reason.”

“It’s because Keith’s an asocial animal!” Lance said suddenly, hands waving around. “The dude doesn’t have feelings— he had the instinct to be broody and fight. Literally _anyone else_ , Veronica!”

Shiro wanted to chide Lance for the comment but he sees a distinct panic in Lance’s posture. Lance also kept glancing back at Shiro, as if he’s worried about him.

No. 

_No._

How could _Lance_ know?

Shiro mumbled a quick excuse, turning on his heels and out of the kitchen.

Ridiculous, ridiculous.

Jealously was rumbling in his chest, the thought of someone looking at Keith and _wanting him._ It’s a ridiculous feeling to have. He doesn't have a claim over Keith and Keith _is_ incredibly good-looking.

And Keith has never given mention of interest in anyone. So reciprocation was a whole other thing.

Wait.

He paused in the hallway.

Keith never talked about that kind of stuff.

Well, Shiro never did either, because he was in relationship. Also, he was never the type to kiss and tell and overshare— Adam was shocked to find out how good Shiro was at it because of the distinct lack of rumors swirling around the golden boy’s sexual history.

But Keith. Keith barely showed interest in friendship. Now he smiled, open, but Shiro has never seen him give a second glance at a handsome face or check out someone’s ass or.

What if Keith is just not interested in him. Because he isn’t interested in men.

“I can feel you freaking out from here,” Pidge said, moodily. The little thing snuck up on him, looking at him through her thick glasses.

“Ah, I’m just—“

“Freaking out over Keith. You have your “freaking over Keith” face on.”

“What does that look like?”

“Your face gets all cute and sad,” she wrinkled her nose. “It’s repulsive.”

Shiro brushed her nose with a knuckle, affection washing out his panic. But then he remembered why he was panicked, and starting panicking again.

What if Keith rejects him, destroying the one good and stable relationship he has left?

Shiro would break.

“Stop being dramatic,” Pidge rolled her eyes, grabbing Shiro’s arm. He trailed after her, a bit pathetic, as they went down the hall into a break room. Pidge grabbed some of her broken tech from the work table and sat criss-cross on the couch with a broken robot head in her lap. She grabbed a screwdriver and got to work.

Shiro felt like he was at the principal’s office. He sat across from her and watched, waiting for her profound words.

“You’re an idiot, Shiro.”

Ah, there it was.

“Is that so?” Shiro said, a small smile on his face.

“Keith, like, flung himself out of ship for you on a daily basis. Hourly basis. Tickly basis. Other alien time measurement basis. Why are you so scared?”

“Devotion is different from love, Katie.”

“Maybe,” she said, her voice wavering a bit. “But I think. To him, it’s the same thing.”

He waited.

“I think me and Keith are pretty similar sometimes,” she said. “Even though he’s old and both of you are _old_.”

“I get it, we’re ancient. Bones are eroding.”

“Ugh. Lance is going to be 19 soon too. And then _all_ of you are going to be so _old_.”

“Pidge.”

“Keith’s, like, _23_.”

“Katie! 26 isn’t old!” Shiro was already insecure over his lost years and white hair. The hair part would hurt more but Keith, when blurring in and out of a coma, said he looked like starlight and the comment burned into Shiro’s chest. Krolia just snorted again.

“Keith and I are pretty similiar,” she said again. “I don’t think he thinks too deeply his feelings. I think he just feels _._ He just has them.”

Her face was a bit pink and Shiro wondered if she was referring to her childhood crush on Lance. He was not so cruel to point out she was not particular subtle about that one— that sort of grace comes with time and Pidge was instead thrown into an space robot war.

“What do you mean, then?”

“I mean. You are dissecting Keith’s feeling and the guy barely does it himself. He just loves you. He loves you.” She sounded hopeless and looked at Shiro, as if she was wishing he was a robot she could plug into and code into being okay and happy.

Shiro wished she could too until he remember the Galra, the pits, his arm, and how Miss Holt actually did do something similar.

Guilt was pouring out of Katie.

Shiro instead gives her a smile and crossed the room to hug her. She was not so small anymore and she tucked in his arms the awkward way an older teenage was ought to do.

“Thanks, Pidge.”

“Yeah.”

“For everything. You saved me.”

“Whatever,” she pushes him off, rubbing her eyes. “You already wasted a day. And today. You gonna lose tomorrow too?”

 

***

 

For a very long time, Shiro thought Adam was it.

They fought— everyone does — but not often at all. They always got along.

He never thought— he never thought they end it. Shame used to bubble in his chest at the memory of the breakup. Adam wasn’t the first but he was going to be _it._

Shiro did not want to die in a hospital bed to the sound of the boy he loved crying his heart out.

He hadn't been able to think about the end of their relationship a lot, not really. He thought about Adam, for sure— his smile, his mouth, how Shiro wish he grabbed his arm and made him stay. He thought about Adam during the launch, his cell, on the field, in Voltron.

But now the memories were worn and flimsy, like they have been stretched to the limits after being completely poked and prodded and attacked from every angle by alien creatures. A part of Shiro wanted to think harder, _who is Adam, does he still love him?_

Being in love was a strange feeling for Shiro. He felt admiration, affection, attraction on a regular basis— but love would a strange one.

It was a sudden lack of control. That his goal also needed to account for another person.

Adam loved him and Shiro loved him back. But Adam worried about him— wanted to take care of him in a way that stopped Shiro from being _Shiro_.

“Stop talking like that. You’re going to be fine.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“You’re our leader, Shiro.”

“The Black Lion choose you.”

“This one’s for you, Shiro.”

_“I love you!”_

 

 

 

 

 

Keith Kogane is five foot six inches of overwhelming devotion and dedication. Shiro wonders how anyone could look at him and write him off as a burnout, as a lost cause, as a waste of potential when he _loves_ _so much._

He crossed the universe, time and time again, and told Shiro, _You are good enough._

Shiro has snapped at Keith once— it was in the very start, when they were still learning how to pilot Voltron. They were sparring for fun and Keith made a swipe at his Galra arm, causing a flashback so quick and violent that Shiro let out a guttural scream. When his vision steadies, he sees Keith crouching in front of him, face going pale.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” Shiro said and continued to say the next few times Keith hovered at his side, hands in the air.

Approaching him with that _fucking caution_ that his grandfather, nurses, friends, teachers, and every doctor from Texas to the West Coast. _Are you okay? Maybe you should sit out. Sorry but we really recommend Takashi abstain from anything involving physical activity. He only has a couple of years to liv—_

Shiro spun on his heel and his voice is sharp and vicious— the type he’d use with Adam when he needed some space and would definitely start a fight. “Keith, lay _off_ , okay?”

The anger is short-lived. He feels like the engine in his jet cut off and he’s falling quickly, quickly, quickly to the ground. Ground control. Ground control. 

Because the look on Keith’s face is devastating. He steps back once, twice, and the air around him changes.

“I just. I thought maybe getting some of the old motorcycles would make you feel b-better. Coran said calls them something different but I know they are motorcycles.”

Shiro has never hated himself more and just a few month ago, he was tearing people apart with his bare hands.

How could he, how fucking could he? Keith had saved him from the Garrison, helped him through this flashback, and now was offering to ride  _broken down bikes_ with himto recover from it and this is how Shiro treat him?

Shiro grabbed Keith’s shoulder, trying for a smile. “I would really like that. Please, can we?” Because it did sound like just what he needed.

Keith never wanted to tether him. 

“Yeah! I’ll meet you outside in fifteen?”

He never wanted Shiro to stop.

“I am so sorry Keith. I should never had lost my patience. _Thank you._ ”

Shiro’s pride has always been an ugly thing but for the first time, he liked the idea of being looked after.

 

***

 

Keith was balanced on one foot, tiptoed to polish Black’s right eye. His tongue was stuck out and his left arm splayed out, keeping him from falling from the platform. Kosmo was watching him warily, his muzzle tucked in his paws but eyes and ears alert. He wondered if they both were terrified that the leader of Voltron will slip and fall.

Shiro said this to him, as he strolled as casually as possible to Keith’s propped up ladder. He wrapped his hands around it, keeping it sturdy.

“Relax, Kosmo has me,” Keith said, scrubbing a dirt spot under a yellow eye.

“It wouldn’t be a heroic way to go,” Shiro said, ignoring him. “Imagine, space witches and black holes, and you kick the bucket because of some spring cleaning.”

“I’ll pitch to that fucking TV show,” Keith said, drily. “It’ll be a real twist. Tell them they can take some creative liberties.”

“They already did,” Shiro laughed at Keith’s sour mood. He changed his voice to sound slightly more noble and bland. “‘Remember, Paladins, we can always work together bound by the power of friendship!’”

“Urg!” Keith slid down the ladder with grace. It was so fast that Shiro stumble back in shock as Keith almost falls into him. “Why are _you_ laughing? You have literally said those very words.”

“Hm,” Shiro said in defeat. “But I will say. Responsibility and leadership is a good look on you."

Keith hunched his shoulder, smiling a bit. “Just following the best.”

“Iverson would be pleased to hear that.”

“ _Ha._ Speaking of which, he still won’t look me in the eye.”

“Well, you did take one out.”

“It was a fit of passion.”

“ _Passion_ , huh,” Shiro smirked but his ears were burning. He had hazy details but something about the permanent twitch in Iverson’s face whenever Keith talks gave enough hints.

They were silent as Keith smacked dirt of the towel by slapping it against the ladder. Shiro watched, nerves curling in his chest and spreading into his arms. He felt as if he was 13 and his muscles were contracting for the first time.

“K-Keith.”

“What’s up?”

He coughed into his hand. Keith threw the towel to ground, trading it for his helmet and tucking it underneath his arm. “I was going to go on a quick fly around just to loosen Black up. Wanna come?”

“Keith.” Shiro said again, weakly.

Keith blinked. He was doing that confused pout. God, he was so cute.

“I care…about you.”

Keith smiled, his eyes shining.

“I care about you too, Shiro.”

Jesus fuck. The way his voice just _dripped_  with adoration. Shiro wanted to melt through the platform.

“No, I mean. I care about you and. You’re an incredible pilot.”

“Thanks?”

“You’ll be leaving tomorrow and I want you to know that I’ll be…waiting for you.” Shiro nodded a bunch of times, relieved because those were the perfect words. “I’ll be here, waiting for you for when you come back.

Keith cocked his head, his eyebrows still furrowed in endearment. Shiro knew Keith Kogane, deep to the very vessel of his selfless soul. The guy had no idea that Shiro was getting at. “Thanks, man.”

 _“Keith_ ,” Shiro rubbed the hand of his neck, flustered. “I’m—“

Fuck it.

He grabbed one of his arms, deceptively corded with muscle — _okay not now Takashi_ — and wrapped another around his waist, pulling him up so he can kiss him properly.

It was a gentle, soft thing. A press of their lips and Shiro kept his eyes scrunched closed the entire time. Keith did not respond and Shiro can tell that his eyes were wide open in shock.

Shiro let him go, Keith fell back to flat of his feet with a quiet _thump_.

Kosmo snuffled into his paws in the background.

“Shiro.”

Shiro studied at the wall, admiring the engineering, a feat really in the 22nd century, he can see why Pidge is so into—

“Shiro.” Keith stepped closer. He sounded shocked. 

Shiro looked down at him.

He was so handsome, from the swipe of his hair to the planes of his reddening cheeks. He wasn't smiling but he is just _glowing._

“What’s up?” Shiro said weakily.

“You. You like me?”

Shiro wanted to laugh but doesn’t know how he could without insulting Keith. “Just wanted to share some chapstick.

Keith punched his shoulder.

“Yes. _Yes_. I—“ Shiro took a quick breath. “You mean a lot to me. You’ve been—“

Keith’s eyes were studying the floor. His long hair was unable to curtain his shy expression. He was biting his lip.

“I never, uh.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Not that that’s a bad thing! Some people just—“

“Are busy with an intergalactic war and possibly alien species heritage to think about dating?” Keith tried.

“Took the words out of my mouth.”

“It’s not that.” He said. He looked to the side, studying the Black Lion’s face for a long while. “I just. I know people love going on about this shit but I never. Thought about it. I just,” He looked flustered and a bit panicked. But he soldiers on. Keith talking about his _feelings_ for Shiro. Wow. “You’ve been everything to me. My e-everything. I want you to be everything.” Keith nodded a bunch of times, like Shiro did before. As if he nailed his train of thought even though Shiro feels a little lost.

“What do you mean—?”

Keith interrupted him, smashing his face against Shiro in a clumsy kiss.  

The tense feeling in Shiro’s shoulders give out. His body felt like it had never hurt before-- as if Shiro was not accumulated to a constant thrum of ache in his veins since Kerberos. He felt light and free and completely pain-free. Except the clatter of their teeth, but  _God_ , was it good. 

Keith pulled back to give another little puppyish kiss to the top of his lips.

“ _Incredible pilot._ You sound like you were giving me an eval.”

Shiro just wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist, trying to hide his face in his shoulder. Keith didn't let him, pushing his face up with a hand.

“Sorry. I just. You never seemed to be—“ Shiro swallowed. 

“You were the only person I could have possibly felt this way towards,” he said. “I’m bad with feelings, you know that.”

“So am I,” Shiro admitted but he doesn’t feel ashamed.

“That’s good. We’re equals.” Keith laughed, arms still around him. Shiro had never see him smile for so long. His cheeks are still red and Shiro tried not to squeeze them because Keith might punch him again.

 

***

 

The next morning, Shiro watched the Voltron launch. The force of the blast made his bangs flutter, smoke and dust getting into his arms of his coat. He was standing too close— he could almost feel the heat of the engine on his face. His mouth is also still warm from the goodbye kiss he gave to Keith— shy in front of their friends and coworkers and fellow soldiers. Keith’s doe-eyed expression was something precious.

As the mecha left his sight, left the atmosphere, Shiro was pleasantly surprised to realize that he doesn’t feel like he was left behind.

Iverson called for him somewhere in the distance.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled.

Time to get to work.

 

 

 

 

 

They’ll be together again soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comment would be cool.
> 
> (Please let me know about any bad grammar.)


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